Do you feel my wrath daddy?
Just look at Maggie giving Mr Three White Dogs and a Pig the eyeball. It’s full of judgement and disappointment. Not because daddy won’t take them out for a walk. No. But because they don’t want to go for a walk in the rain.
Why is it raining daddy?
Why have you not stopped it raining daddy?
Has the rain gone yet daddy, let’s check again daddy? (for the millionth time.)
Then there’s the huffing, puffing, long deep sighs. The life beginning to leave your soul as each depressed look and raised eyebrows, sentences you into the ‘Bad parent box’.
So there was nothing for it. The rain coats came out, complete with hoods (still don’t get the hood thing.) Mummy was on a mission. The dogs of course took this as ‘oooo it mustn’t be raining anymore’ and excitedly got ready. Sitting waiting for coats to be put on. Further sitting nicely while Rosies harness goes on, then best good girl/boy smart sitting for mummy to choose who is ready for the leader.
Now Rosie is ALWAYS last to get the leader added, usually because she being a total nutcase, scraping her face along the rug, itching her butt on her brother and sister, throwing herself on the floor and playing dead as you are trying to clip the leader on (who knows why?) I do know trying to train a dog with a memory like hers is like trying to solidify chocolate on a hot radiator. Totally useless. So we take each day as it is. Good or bad (memory wise) giggle about it and carry on.
The dogs were so excited though, they were so ready to get out in the fresh air, ready for a brisk walk in the autuminal air. Well that was until I open the door. STOP. BRAKE. The horror. It was still RAINING. Mummy was actually expecting them to go walking in the rain! The humiliation. The dogs then tried to put on the brakes and back away from the from door as quickly as possible.
Have I mentioned the dogs already had their leaders on (Ha!) Before they knew what was happening they were outside. By the time they managed to turn themselves back around to the door, their snouts were met by a locked, front door. The horror.
Now, we’ve been in this pickle before, the trying to entice them out of the garden. Encouraging them to stop trying to go backwards (back home) and the not letting them off lead too soon (or they do scurry home and sit huddled on the doorstep, under the canopy, until you catch up with them.) So they didn’t get off lead until we were a satisfying distance from home.
And you know what they had a great time, puddle jumping, bird chasing and rolling in mud (totally ruined their raincoats, they’re gonna need washing!) I’m pretty sure I even saw some tail wagging and an almost smile off them too. We were also out a good while too, so win/win.
Their favourite part though, coming home. As soon as they recognised the route, they were chugging at steam train speed. On a mission to the warm, dry. Daddy had warm towels and sweatshirts on the ready. They all piled into the living room fighting for a space infront of fire to warm up (I haven’t got the heart to tell them it’s not a real fire) it didn’t even have the fan on bless. It was just the light. No heat.
Tell you what though, they haven’t grumped, moaned, huffed or puffed again. They are now in their fav spots on the couch, out for the count and Pig?
Pig doesn’t give a s**t. He’s sleeping. He doesn’t do rain and It’s not worth my life to try and make him 😜